


Five Times Scarif's Destruction Was Inconvenient and One Time It Wasn't

by thehaikubandit



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Humor, and a sneaky campaign reference, dealing with bureaucracy and paperwork, gratuitous eddie izzard references, this is why you don't blow up your goddamn archives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 10:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12604624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehaikubandit/pseuds/thehaikubandit
Summary: Or why you shouldn't destroy all your plans and files without ensuring they're backed up somewhere.





	Five Times Scarif's Destruction Was Inconvenient and One Time It Wasn't

**Author's Note:**

> This work is for Bucky, who helped come up with the idea and encouraged my shenanigans.

**One:**

The rattling in the vents was beginning to surpass annoying and move towards worrying. Commander Revan had sent in a stormtrooper in desperation and was now waiting for him to return and report on what the hell that noise was. The Commander hoped it wasn’t another dianoga. One of those had ended up in the trash the other month and it had killed three people before they’d been able to get rid of it. Not that Commander Revan cared if stormtroopers died, but it didn’t look great on expense reports.

Luckily for Revan this latest stormtrooper emerged unscathed.

“Well,” barked Revan, stress making him tense, “What the vape is that noise?”

“It looks like something’s broken sir,” reported the trooper. “If we get the plans, maintenance should be able to fix it in a few hours.”

Dismissing the stormtrooper Commander Revan sent a holomessage to the archive requesting a copy of the Star Destroyer plans for maintenance purposes.

He was slightly shocked to receive the following reply:

 

_Message sent 09:58 CST_

_To COMMANDER REVAN_

_Your request for STAR DESTROYER PLANS has been DENIED. We are currently experiencing technical issues due to THE DESTRUCTION OF OUR ENTIRE ARCHIVES._

_Please direct further correspondence to GRAND MOFF TARKIN who can be reached at CLASSIFIED LOCATION._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_DREY LAURENT_

_Archive Officer_

 

Commander Revan wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the holomessage, but having once had the misfortune of meeting Grand Moff Tarkin there was no way he was disturbing him for a rattling vent. That was assuming he could have found the classified location. Sending maintenance into the vents with a roll of tape and the hope they knew what they were doing would have to suffice.

 

**Two:**

New location postings were the bane of her existence. Unfortunately for Engineer Jewel Voss being a good engineer meant she seemed to be constantly assigned to new projects. She just hated not knowing her way around, and not knowing anybody she worked with. The only person she seemed to see with any consistency was Darth Vader. She did not consider this to be a good thing.

Jewel’s post to the Death Star came with the traditional jaunty welcome pack sent to her datapad. In this case it was emblazoned with the phrase “Welcome to the Death Star” under which someone had written, presumably trying to be funny “It does Death”.

Jewel was hungry and tired after the transfer from Coruscant. All she wanted to do was find the canteen which was supposedly located at Alpha Beta Nine. The first problem was that this seemed to make no numeric sense. The second problem was that there was no map in her welcome pack.

She logged in to the nearest computer terminal and tried to search for a map. Nothing came up. That seemed...odd.

It was at this point Jewel noticed there seemed to be multi-coloured arrows painted onto the otherwise plain walls. This was not the typical Empire style of interior decorating. Although she guessed as an engineer and not an interior designer she might be wrong.

Looking through the information pack in more detail she finally found something useful. A key to the coloured arrows. Apparently green meant food, so she decided to follow it and see what happened. She really hoped she’d find the canteen soon because at this point Jewel was hungry enough that she would have killed someone for a plate of penne all'arrabbiata.

 

**Three:**

Darth Vader was currently very angry his master had made him stop choking the staff. It was bad enough that he had floated around for days after the destruction of the Death Star. And that the Death Star had been destroyed, although if he was honest he might have seen the flaw in the design, but Tarkin annoyed him. Alright, maybe the destruction of the Death Star had been worth it. He’d even been able to use his good lines when finally defeating Obi-Wan.

Now however he was back to dealing with idiots. The only thing Tarkin had been good for was dealing with the nonsense Vader would rather avoid. Today they were claiming it would take a year to build the next Star Destroyer. They should have been able to build one in four months.

“The Emperor will not be happy with the delay Engineer.” He clenched his fist and was pleased to see the man wince. Even if he wasn’t allowed to choke the engineers, at least he could have fun threatening to do so.

“I know my lord, I’m sorry my lord.” The man was sweating and shaking.

“Would you care to explain the delay?”

“Um, well, we don’t have any more plans my lord.”

“What?”

“They um, they got blown up.”

“I was not aware the Rebels destroyed any of our plans with the Death Star.”

“No my lord, uh, um, well, weblewthemupwiththeDeathStar.”

“Excuse me?”

“The archives on Scarif my lord, we kept the plans there and only there for safety.”

Vader thought about this. Then he realised something that would have made him smile if that didn’t hurt too much these days.

“Tell me, do you know who blew up the plans?”

“I don’t know my lord. I’m sorry my lord.”

“Yes, well, you may go. You have seven months to produce a new Star Destroyer.”

The man gulped, but bowed and left without further comment.

Vader was by no means a stupid man, and he knew that Tarkin had been in command of the Death Star at the time Scarif was destroyed. It seemed the Force had given him one more chance to disgrace the man after his death. He would certainly make sure that the Emperor knew who was to blame for the delay of his new ships.

 

**Four:**

“I don’t understand why they won’t approve my holiday time.”

Pilot Corman was complaining again. His fellow pilots sighed into their meals or rolled their eyes. Lunch break was short enough without dealing with more of his nonsense.

“Did you fill out the right form?” asked one. Another pilot gave her a glare for encouraging him.

“Yes! I filled out the yellow form, and the sub-section, and got it all signed and sent off.”

“Then take it up with HR and shut up already.”

“Why should I be the one who has to do their job for them? It’s bad enough flying these transports day in and day out with the damn Rebellion interrupting our schedules and only getting one week off in a standard year without having to do someone else’s job.”

“Then don’t take the damn holiday,” Kain never had much patience for Corman’s whinging.

“But I booked the hotel on Naboo three months ago. Which is when I put the paperwork in. The Commander said it should be fine. So why haven’t they gotten back to me?”

Kain mumbled something under his breath that sounded like “I hope a Gungan eats you” and left the table. Finishing their meals as fast as possible the other pilots followed him.

With his supposed holiday looming Corman did grudging contact HR a month later. He was very annoyed when they claimed that they’d lost the form. Honestly, what good were these bureaucrats if they couldn’t even keep track of basic records?

 

**Five:**

“ _Shuttle please identify.”_

“Base, our clearance codes should be coming across now.”

“ _Confirmed. Please state crew and purpose of visit.”_

“TK-578 and TK938 and two prisoners. We’re transporting them. We’re transporting the prisoners. For transport.”

“ _Shuttle please follow docking prompts to landing bay two and have prisoner documentation ready for processing.”_

TK-578 groaned at this and turned to his fellow trooper.

“Do you feel like explaining to them that we don’t have the complete records?”

“No chance. I beat you in that game of stone, datapad, vibroknife fair and square.”

“Best two out of three?”

“Kriff off.”

They completed the landing without issue and got the prisoners out of the shuttle and lined up on the landing bay floor.

An officer, a Corporal by the look of her approached them with a datapad.

“TK-578 and TK938 please transfer the records to us so that you can be on your way.”

“Uh, about that sir,” TK-578 coughed awkwardly. “The records are incomplete due to a data issue.”

“Oh karking hell. Not another batch.” The stormtroopers were relieved that she wasn’t accusing them of disobeying orders or threatening to imprison them along with the prisoners.

“Let me guess,” she continued. “Scarif?”

“Yes sir.”

Grumbling under her breath about the amount of extra work that whole kriffing mess had caused her the Corporal accepted the records they had and let them go on their way.

 

**\+ One:**

Annor Daklan, formerly Sergeant Annor Daklan waited anxiously in the cells for her trial. She had always known there was a possibility of getting caught. Embezzling credits and sending them to the Rebellion had been risky, but useful. She knew that there were a number of people who had food and medical supplies thanks to her actions.

As much as she’d tried to cover her tracks, the evidence had been found. Annor’s last hope was that she could pass herself off as a greedy Sergeant. That way she’d avoid the torture and execution. Life working in the spice mines was a mildly better option. Maybe.

What Annor didn’t expect being called to trial and having absolutely none of the evidence presented against her. Instead of being relieved it made her more nervous. They knew. They must know. They were going to pardon her and then have a bounty hunter take her out the instant she left the building.

For a month after the trial Annor went from place to place, not daring to make contact with the Rebellion. She couldn’t risk the possibility that she was being followed. But nothing happened. Well, the Death Star exploded, and that was all over the news, but nothing happened to her. So Annor decided to risk it and sent a coded message asking for help and a chance to work directly on a Rebel base.

When they collected Annor someone told her what had happened.

“You’re telling me they blew up their own records?”

“Yep, the whole planet.”

“Everything?”

“Anything vaguely important. Plans, HR, tax documents, all gone.”

Annor thanked the force that the Empire was run by idiots with no ability for contingency planning.


End file.
